I’m feeling a bit lonely today because I’m struggling with the constant light conversations with people. I’ve met a few Europeans, but none whose first language is english. It’s not that I want d&m conversations, but when language is a barrier, humour is lost without the context. I haven’t really laughed properly with anyone - all my humour back home is stupid random jokes and I haven’t found anyone who gets it yet, and laughter is the rhythm of my soul. I’m looking forward to seeing Shane and Nicola next week.
Today I went for a walk to a place called Patan which is about an hour away from where I am staying. There are great markets there and it is so cheap that I could fill a suitcase worth of stuff for less than $100. Belts, watches, clothes, shoes - were only a few dollars - it’s crazy. It makes me laugh how ripped off we get back home. The west has really mastered the art of separating form from function, and convincing us that a piece of clothing can be worth 100 times its value because the shape or design is different to something else. When I get back, I might get into branding - it’s at the heart of the capitalist spirit.
The sky was clear today and I had a perfect view of the surrounding mountains. They were a misty blue as though I was looking at them from underwater. The mountains refracted with the heat waves and hazy pollution which the sun was cutting through giving it a dreamy appearance, like a fish bending underwater when the rays of light shine down.
On the way to Patan I saw the really poor side of Kathmandu. People here are so poor that I wouldn’t know where to start in trying to explain how much we pay for things in Australia. Heaps of people I talk to are super impressed that I can drive a car, and that my parents can too. A guy I was talking to at my hotel ( one of the staff members) was interested in hearing about Australia. I told him that houses cost over $1,000,000 and we have to work incredibly hard all our life just to pay it off. I was talking about ‘living to work’, how Australians don’t see their families enough because we do such long hours, stressed out in peak hour traffic - the whole shebang.
I was cruising along nicely on my bandwagon when he interjected and asked how many hours we work on average. I told him I worked about 10 hours a day but then I had 2 hours travel time on top.
He told me that he worked 16 hours a day (6am until 10pm), 6 days a week, and that he rode his push bike to get to the hotel because there was no way he could ever afford a car. Then, when he got his annual holiday, he went back to his local village and worked in the rice fields to help out his family. He got married 10 days before but hadn’t had a honeymoon because he couldn’t afford it and couldn’t get time off work.
I shut up pretty quick after that and I don’t think I’ll be complaining about Australian life to anyone else in Nepal or India. It has made me think a lot about the bigger questions in life, but the two main ones are:
1) How lucky we are to be born white, into money, education, and a safe country like Australia. It’s made me realise that no matter how hard I work, or how much I seize the good opportunities which present themselves, I’ll never ‘deserve’ the good fortune I have. It’s just luck that there are opportunities in front of me. Some people choose to grab those opportunities and some people don’t grab them. The critical point is that the opportunities are there in the first place. The fact I can go to SEEK and there’s thousands of jobs paying good money is incomprehensible in a place like Nepal.
For some bizarre reason I was born into priviledge when most of the world is born into a pit of inescapable struggle. Most of the world works hard - harder than I ever will, and they’ll never get anywhere because there isn’t an opportunity for them to be successful. Most people remain the proletariat and never really earn much more than they produce. Back home I get paid for ideas, and if an idea can make someone money then I can earn a lot of money. Most of those ideas come from a long history of education which taught me to think. But when you live in a shithole and shift dirt all day, or beg, there’s no escape - the value of your labour is always restricted. I’ve realised what an incredible arrogance it is to think you deserve your success and other people who ‘fail’ don’t deserve it. It’s purely luck.
I’m not trying to take anything away from people who work hard and are successful - I respect that totally and one day I hope I can be successful too, I guess I’m just realising the full extent of how lucky I am - people always say it, but it’s the first time I’ve actually experienced it.
If it comes down to luck and chance - I ended up as Daniel in Sydney and someone else ended up as Deepak in an Indian slum - what does that say about purpose and meaning? If it is just ‘chance’ and I exist for no other reason than a random chain of events causing atoms to arrange in a certain way, do our lives have any meaning/importance? And I don’t know what’s worse, the notion of chance or fate - you can’t control either, but at least fate makes you think there’s some rhythm to the madness. Chance is like rolling the dice and relinquishing any power we believe we have.
Even if there is a purpose, how can we justify our good fortune versus other people’s misery?
Do we just gain meaning through relationships?
If we don’t have relationships, do we not have meaning?
We believe that life has an inherent value but when you look around here, it makes you wonder. I know this is a rant but it’s a hard thing to come to terms with coming from Australia to here. When I go for walks here and see desperate people living in piles of feculent rubbish, eyes hollow and scabs covering their bodies, I don’t get it and it doesn’t make sense.
2) The second thing the conversation made me realise is that although I concede that most of the world works harder than I ever will, and I’m insanely lucky to be Australian, how do I reconcile the fact that I wasn’t happy doing what I was doing back home despite my privilege? I don’t know what’s worse: to have nothing and hope for everything, or to have everything and feel like you have nothing (hopeless). Even if you know you have everything, you can still feel unhappy because it’s not enough.
I’ve found that the people here who have nothing have a kind of complacent simplicity and acceptance of their fate (or chance - which suggests they’re just unlucky) and I envy that.
How can you reconcile not feeling satisfied when you have more than virtually everyone else? I should be satisfied but I wasn’t, and in 7-8 months I’ll be back doing the same thing - working, eating and sleeping through life and I wonder if after seeing how shit the rest of the world lives, I’ll change my state of mind and view things differently. In the end that’s all happiness is - a state of mind. You can be happy in any situation, and it’s not situations which make life good, it’s perspective.
The more you have, the more you want, right? I guess this is the key question I was asking before I left, and although I know the theoretical answer, I want to be able to put it into practice. It’s easy to be happy when you’re gallivanting around the world on a credit card, but somehow I need to change my state of mind for when I come back, so hopefully the trip helps with that.
Anyway, I’m going to go have a beer 